


Wona

by Trashland (Destieltrashland)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dean Has a Crush, Eventual Smut, First Dates, Friendship, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Security Guard Dean, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7487787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destieltrashland/pseuds/Trashland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I find that it’s a very good way to learn about another person.” Cas said. “Competitiveness, ability to follow rules and simple instructions, how they handle losing.” He gave Dean a pointed look. </p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” he teased. </p><p>Cas shrugged, trying to keep his face blank but Dean could see a smirk forming at the edges of his mouth. </p><p>“Also, on weekdays they make the place eighteen and up after nine o’clock and they sell beer at the concession stand.” </p><p>Dean grinned again. This was going to be fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wona

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [LizDarcy83](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LizDarcy83) and [Moontourist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moontourist) for being my cheerleaders :) Love you guys!

The bathroom was small and outdated, the mirror above the sink was scuffed and one of the doors on the cabinet below it hung slightly crooked. At least it was clean, Dean thought. He pulled at his collar again, the starch in the fabric making him itch. He knew he should have washed the shirt before wearing it but he really hated ironing. He ran the cold water over a paper towel and dabbed at the back of his neck. Why was he so nervous? It’s not like this was his first day on the job or anything. He had taken the position a week ago and had sailed through the training, what little training there was. He had worked security jobs before and they were pretty much all the same. Keep your eyes and ears open, if anything happens – call the police. This job just had the added bonus of front desk work too. Dean was confident in his ability to open doors, greet residents, make phone calls, and sign for deliveries though. Maybe it was the fact that this job paid more than the two jobs he was working before, _combined_ , or the fact that his best friend had vouched for him (and basically gotten him the gig), that had him on edge. He took another deep breath, straightened his coat for the umpteenth time and headed out of the bathroom. 

The employee breakroom was also small but it was functional. He squeezed past the table with two chairs and bumped into the cart holding the ancient microwave. Grumbling, he paused to slip into his serene everything-is-right-with-the-world customer service face before opening the door. 

He took up his post behind the large stainless steel topped desk. Garth, the guy going off shift handed him the shift log and then waved and threw him a cheerful goodbye as he made his way in the direction Dean had come from. Dean did a quick survey of the lobby; the white marble gleamed softly golden in the fading sunlight, the couch and two chairs pressed against one wall, a low metal table in front of them, were unoccupied, and everything was quiet. Dean shifted foot to foot, not used to standing in dress shoes for long periods of time yet. Maybe he’d get some of those gel insole things with the dumb commercials. 

A black towncar pulled up out front and a man stepped out of the backseat. He was wearing a tan trenchcoat, which Dean thought was odd given it was California in August. He pulled the front door open and shuffled into the lobby along with a gust of warm air. He had a mop of dark messy hair and a strong jawline with just the right amount of stubble. Dean recognized him immediately. 

Before he left, Benny had given him the low-down on some of the tenants in the building. He told him to be careful around Mrs. Masters on the fourth floor because she was a relentless flirt with an extremely jealous husband. He had said not to even make eye contact with Mr. Allistair in the penthouse because that guy was the devil incarnate and could get inside your head with just one look.

And he had said to be on the lookout for Mr. Novak in condo 302. The guy was a little bit weird and standoffish but nice. Benny had sort of taken it upon himself to watch out for the guy, though Novak didn’t know it. Dean had just nodded, trusting Benny’s judgement. 

“Good evening, Mr. Novak.” Dean said politely. 

The man stopped, his head tilted to the side a little, sort of like a bird, and he stared at Dean with huge blue eyes. Damn, those eyes were something else. Dean’s head immediately filled with cliché images of white sand beaches and crystal blue waters off some tropical island in the south pacific. 

“I’ve never seen you before. How did you know my name?” the man said, pulling Dean out of his daydream. His voice was whiskey on the rocks, rough and deep. 

“Oh. Sorry about that. I’m new here, I took over for Benny. He gave me a few pointers before he left.” He smiled and held out his hand, “Name’s Dean, Dean Winchester.” 

“Hello Dean.” The man said, returning the gesture. His palm was smooth and warm and Dean didn’t really want to let go. A small smile crossed his lips and Dean tried hard to memorize it. 

Once their hands dropped, Mr. Novak gave him another curious look, followed by a sharp nod, and then he headed to the elevators. 

Dean was going to have to call Benny tomorrow and pump him for more information on the guy. For some reason, he wanted to know everything. 

________________

He sighed as he propped his feet on the desk and opened a copy of Vanity Fair someone had left in the lobby. He really should start bringing a book. He’d been at this job for three weeks now and he’d only seen Mr. Novak once since they met. He didn’t know why his thoughts kept turning to the bright eyed man. Benny said he had a crush but Dean didn’t think that was possible with someone you’d only met twice. Actually, the second time had been just polite greetings and a stilted wave. 

He was musing over this summer’s latest fashions – _How do girls wear this stuff? Is it even comfortable?_ – when the front doors swished open. He dropped his feet immediately and looked up. 

Mr. tall dark and handsome himself was approaching, well, half approaching. An impeccably dressed blonde man had one arm around Mr. Novak’s waist and was half walking, half dragging him towards the desk. 

“Hello, could you be a darling and help me with my friend here?” the man said in an impeccable British accent that matched his outfit, as he readjusted Mr. Novak’s arm across his shoulders. Novak almost looked asleep, his head resting against the other man’s neck. 

“Hello Dean.” Mr. Novak said. He turned his face towards Dean, his eyes sliding open and a drowsy smile crossed his lips. “I lost my key, or left it in the cab.” His brows furrowed as he tried to think. 

“He’s had too much to drink. Could you help me get him home? He’s in 302, I can show you his ID if you need it.” The other man continued. 

“Sure. I know who he is. One sec.” he said as he set the small engraved sign – _We have stepped away from the desk but will return shortly. Sorry for any inconvenience_ \- on the desktop. “Let’s go. Do you need any help?” 

“He’s heavier than he looks, I assure you.” The man quipped, his mouth pulling into a smirk. 

“Don’t be mean, Bal.” Novak said. His head was on the man’s shoulder now, his back slumped. Dean fitted an arm under his armpit and tried to take some of his weight. Novak looked over at him. “Thank you for helping me, Dean.” 

“It’s what I’m here for.” He said. Novak’s body was warm next to him and his muscular shoulders did not miss Dean’s notice. His hair was tamer than normal, the aid of some form of hair product no doubt. Dean decided he liked it better before, windswept and tangled. His fingers itched to mess it up. 

The other man was humming something now, a pop song maybe. They had made it to the elevator bank but they were taking forever, which was odd at this time of night. When the doors finally opened, Dean and the other man dragged Novak inside. He grumbled and snuffled closer into the blonde man’s neck and shoulder. Dean felt a stab of jealousy but tried to quash it immediately. 

He didn’t even know the man’s full name! 

The trip upstairs was uneventful except that Novak fell asleep and when they reached his door, Dean helped his friend prop him against the wall so that he could open it. 

The apartment was nicely decorated in earth tones with dark wood accents. The furniture looked comfortable and expensive. They dragged Novak to a large sofa and maneuvered him onto it. Dean helped untie and pull off his shoes before covering him with a soft throw blanket. The other man came back in the room with a large glass of water and an aspirin bottle, setting them on the coffee table, presumably where Novak could find them when he woke up. 

Dean headed back to the door. When he looked back, the other man was brushing a soft kiss across Novak’s forehead. 

They took the elevator down in silence. 

“Thanks for all your help.” The man said as soon as they hit the lobby. “I hope you haven’t gotten a bad impression of him. He doesn’t normally do this, you know?” 

“I know.” He didn’t but he hadn’t gotten the sense that Novak was a drunk or a constant partier, from Benny or Novak himself. “No harm done. Everybody has an off night once in a while.” 

“Yes, well, in this case that’s truer than most.” The other man said. He looked Dean over once more and nodded, “Goodnight Dean.”

“Goodnight.” Dean said. He resumed his position behind the desk. 

*****

It was way too early and Dean had been at work for over fifteen hours at this point. Cole had called in sick and when they couldn’t find anyone else by the time his shift was supposed to start, they had asked if Dean could stay on for a few hours until someone else came in. Dean had agreed with dollar signs flashing in front of his eyes but now he regretted it. Those same eyes were scratchy with lost sleep and he could feel a five o’clock shadow sprouting on his face. His suit felt as limp and worn out as he did. 

He was coming out of the break room, his third cup of coffee in the last hour clutched in his hand. The styrofoam cup didn’t help with the heat and he could feel his fingers tingling against it. As he was sitting back down in his chair, the elevator doors opened and a disheveled Mr. Novak came stumbling out. 

He was wearing the same outfit as last night, except his button up shirt was halfway unbuttoned, now revealing a dark gray undershirt, and he had no shoes on. When he spotted Dean he changed course and headed in his direction. 

“Good morning, Mr. Novak” Dean said. He had pillow lines on his cheek and his hair was sleep mussed, sticking up in more directions than Dean would have thought possible. He smiled when he noticed it.

“I feel like hell and I am in desperate need of coffee, so it’s not so good yet but it will be soon with any hope.” Novak replied. 

Deans lips quirked up into another smile. He didn’t know how the guy could form complete sentences like that with what must be a massive hangover. When Dean was hungover, he did little more than grunt and point to things. 

“I came to ask if you found my key. I seem to have lost it at some point last night.” Novak said. He patted the pockets of his slacks and sent Dean a helpless look. Dean tried to suppress his chuckle, he really did, but it didn’t work. 

“No, sorry. Your friend said you might have left it in the cab.” 

Novak looked crestfallen but he nodded. “I thought I remembered something like that. Well I guess coffee will have to wait until I can get a locksmith to come out.” If it was even possible, he looked more beaten down by this thought than the previous one. 

Dean hated to see him so upset. 

“Here. I just poured this cup. It’s not fancy or anything but it’s got caffeine in it.” Dean said as he passed the styrofoam cup to Novak. 

His whole face lit up. He took the cup and immediately took a drink, wincing slightly as it no doubt burned his tongue. 

“If you want sugar, I’ve got a couple packets of the pink stuff back here somewhere.” Dean said but Novak just shook his head. 

“That’s not necessary. This is wonderful. Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, no problem, Mr. Novak.”

“Call me Cas.” 

\---------------------------------

Dean was working the overnight shift again. They couldn’t seem to keep an overnight guy for more than a few weeks and Dean could understand why. Half the time it was the most supremely boring job on the planet. The lobby was too bright and too quiet and even with a book, the steady hum of the elevators started to grate on your nerves after a while. The other half of the time was spent helping drunk or handsy tenants up to their units, trying to keep random people from wandering the halls at all hours of the night, and answering noise complaints.  


Dean sighed as he sipped another cup of tea. Cas had gotten him to switch a few weeks back, at least on his overnights, saying it would help him stay awake while keeping him from getting jittery. He’d been skeptical at first but soon changed his mind. That was another thing he hated about overnights; no visits from Cas. During his usual evening shift he would see Cas when he got home from work and then later Cas would come down (bringing his dinner with him usually) just to chat for a while. Cas loved to hear stories from Dean’s sordid young adulthood. 

Cas was raised by conservative parents whom he was no longer in touch with. He worked as an accountant for his brother’s law firm and he hated it. He said he enjoyed talking to Dean because all of Dean’s stories were so different from his own. Dean liked Cas. He was attracted to him sure; actually he’d never met a more handsome man in his life, but he also thought he was interesting. He was smart and funny in an odd way. He liked bees and trashy mystery novels but he hated the beach. When he laughed, really laughed, his nose scrunched up in the middle. Dean had learned if he told the right kind of stories, he could get Cas to open up too, and he relished every piece of information he got out of the other man. 

He caught his mind drifting and rubbed at the back of his neck. Another thing he hated about overnights – too much time to think. 

The front door swished open and he looked up. A short, balding man in an all black suit was holding the door with his foot and doing a Vanna White style ‘after you’ gesture with his arm. Dean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and stood, setting his book down after marking his place with an old receipt. Gently urging residents and their dates upstairs was much easier when standing. 

When he looked up again, Cas was brushing past the man in the black suit, a scowl on his face. His eyes lit up when he saw Dean. Dean wasn’t sure what was going on but it was clear that Cas wasn’t too happy with the man following him. He furrowed his brow, coming around the desk and into the lobby itself. 

“Good evening, Mr. Novak.” he said, opting for the more formal address in front of this stranger. “Can I-“ 

“No. We were just heading upstairs.” The shorter man cut in. His tone was clipped with annoyance, his accent making it all the more dismissive. 

Cas whirled on him. “No, actually – _Fergus_ – We weren’t.” he said. He pointed one finger at the other man’s chest, “In fact, I believe I told you not to even walk me to the door but you insisted, spouting some nonsense about being concerned for my safety. Well I am home now, _safe_ , and I would like for you to leave.” He finished by crossing his arms. 

During this speech Dean had unconsciously moved to Cas’ side, a few steps behind. Cas could obviously handle himself but Dean wanted to be there just in case. It was his job after all.

The other man looked Cas over before he let out a small chuckle and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Well, if I had known you were such a prude I would never have agreed to go on this pity date in the first place. Tell your brother not to try and set me up again, as he obviously lacks the taste required to do so.” 

With that, he turned on his heel and headed back out the glass doors. Dean watched him pull out his phone and a few moments later the car circled around front again. 

“What an asshole.” Cas finally said, breaking the silence. Dean chuckled. 

“Yeah, he was quite the piece of work.” 

Cas followed him to the desk, taking up his usual spot and leaning against the counter. Dean picked up his tea and took a drink. 

“You want some tea?”

“No. Thanks though.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Dean had never been much for heartfelt conversation but what the guy had said was harsh and he wanted to make sure Cas was ok. 

Cas sighed loudly and dropped his forehead onto his crossed arms. Dean smiled around the lip of his mug at the gesture which made the man look so much younger than his thirty five years. 

“Fergus Crowley – he’s one of my brothers associates and apparently Michael thought we would be good together.” He said. His voice was muffled by his arms but in the dead quiet of the lobby, Dean could still make it out. 

“It doesn’t seem like your brother _has the taste required_ ” he deliberately put on an exaggerated accent, hoping to make Cas laugh, “to be setting you up on dates.” He said. 

He saw Cas’ shoulders shake minutely and for a moment he worried he’d gone too far but then Cas was standing back up, a grin on his face, a deep chuckle coming from his throat. 

“I’ll say it again; what an asshole.” He shook his head, “I’ll have to tell Michael I appreciate the effort,“ Dean rolled his eyes again and Cas smirked at him, “but no more blind dates for me.”

They sat in silence for a while, Cas with a thoughtful expression on his face. Dean finished his tea and set the mug aside to wash (or refill) later. 

“So Cas, what do you look for in a date? Obviously short and smarmy isn’t it, so…” he trailed off. 

Cas blushed a little, ducking his head. “Well I guess, someone I can talk to, someone with an actual opinion about actual things. My brother and his friends all just talk about work and money; they don’t have real lives or interests. I want someone who knows how to get their hands dirty, you know?” 

Dean nodded even as his heart picked up speed. 

“Uh yeah. I know what you mean.” He said cautiously. 

Cas was watching him now, his blue eyes wide and contemplative. Dean felt pinned by the stare but not in a bad way. 

“You and I should go out.” Cas said suddenly. He’d been thinking the same exact thing and for a moment he wasn’t sure which one of them had spoken. 

Cas was staring at him though, his head tilted in that familiar way that Dean secretly thought was adorable.  


Must have been him. 

“Yeah, Cas. That’d be great.” He said, smiling softly, “I’m off Wednesday, if that works for you.” 

“Wednesday works.” 

______________

Dean couldn’t help but laugh as he handed money to the cab driver and stepped out of the car. Earlier in the day, he had received a text with an address and the instructions to give it to his driver but not to look it up himself. 

Apparently, Cas was a fan of surprises. 

“Really, Cas?” he said, with a grin, “mini golf?”

Cas was standing in front of a chain-link fence with a large open gate sporting a Palo Alto Family Fun Center sign above it.

“I find that it’s a very good way to learn about another person.” Cas said. “Competitiveness, ability to follow rules and simple instructions, how they handle losing.” He gave Dean a pointed look. 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” he teased. 

Cas shrugged, trying to keep his face blank but Dean could see a smirk forming at the edges of his mouth. 

“Also, on weekdays they make the place eighteen and up after nine o’clock and they sell beer at the concession stand.” 

Dean grinned again. This was going to be fun. 

Cas chose a bright yellow club and set of golf balls for himself and a neon green set for Dean. 

The first course was marked by a large fiberglass bear sleeping against a carved wooden tree trunk with a tunnel through it. Dean lined up his shot, aiming towards the interior of the tree trunk. Even if he hit it, he figured the ball bouncing off would have a pretty good chance of making it through. He was wrong. Way too many shots later, he was through the other side and Cas was snickering so much Dean thought he might hyperventilate. 

“I just have to find my groove. Don’t you worry, I’ll get there.” He said, watching as Cas tried to school his face. 

Cas lined up his shot, turning his body slightly more to the left than Dean had. The little yellow ball sailed down the green and plunked against the inside of the tunnel, bouncing out on the opposite side. It rolled to a stop mere inches from the hole and Cas calmly tapped it in. 

He was smiling as he walked back and Dean couldn’t help but match it. 

“Good shot.” He said as he leaned in to brush a kiss across Cas’ cheek. His skin was warm and the scratch of his stubble made Dean’s lips tingle. 

The next course had a ramp in the center of the green, leading uphill to the hole. Dean tried to use the ramp but his first try resulted in his ball landing well out of bounds of the course and his second just rolled back down to him. On his third try he managed to make it within putting distance and was able to save the round. 

Dean felt warmth bloom in his chest as he watched Cas’ face scrunch up in concentration, the tip of his tongue just poking out between his lips as he lined up his shot. Cas made it up the ramp on his second try.

Dean rested his hand on the small of Cas’ back as they made their way to the next course. 

“This is a lot of fun, Cas.” He said. “Thanks for inviting me.” 

A sand pit with a fiberglass serpent type monster dipping in and out of it proved a more difficult obstacle for both of them at the next course. They laughed and kicked sand at one another until they each finally made it to the hole. 

Three beers and seven courses later and Dean couldn’t stop smiling. This was the best date he had been on in a long time. Conversation flowed easily between them and he felt like he would never get tired of hearing Cas laugh. He was adorable. Dean had taken to heckling him while he lined up his shots, alternating between lame put downs (your mom jokes were a staple of his younger years) and increasingly inappropriate compliments. 

“Your ass looks amazing in those jeans, Cas.” He said as he watched Cas pull his club back, readying for his swing. Cas looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out but Dean could see the flush creeping up his neck. 

He made it under the mermaid’s tail and across the clam shell in two less strokes than Dean. 

At the next course, Dean set their beers to the side and crowded up close to Cas, resting his hands lightly on the other man’s hips. 

“Unable to follow rules and simple instructions.” Cas mumbled under his breath and Dean laughed. He pressed a kiss to the nape of Cas’ neck as he took his shot and the ball jumped sideways, narrowly missing one of the openings in the side of the pirate ship. Cas scowled at him but didn’t move away immediately. Dean kissed his neck again, letting his lips drag along to the side and nibbling behind his ear. Cas shivered before he pulled away. 

As Dean struggled to hit his ball through a spinning windmill, Cas did his best to distract him. He crowded in close, like Dean, but instead of just a light touch on the hip, Cas pressed the length of his body against Dean’s back. Like every cheesy romantic comedy, he slid his arms down Dean’s and tried to teach him the correct way to line up a shot, pulling his arms back and forth multiple times, and grinding his hips against Dean’s ass a little each time. Dean groaned and his eyes shut involuntarily. 

“Doesn’t take instruction well either,” Cas whispered in his ear and Dean cracked another smile. 

At this point, their interest in the game was waning and Dean wasn’t even sure they were keeping score anymore.  


The next hole had a brick wall cutting the course in two with four openings along the bottom. Unless you cheated you couldn’t see what the green looked like until you were on the other side. Dean sunk his ball in six shots and when he stood after retrieving it, he felt strong arms around his waist. 

Cas spun him, leading him along until his back met bricks. Cas’ mouth was hot and insistent. His lips were softer than Dean had imagined and he groaned into the kiss, dropping his club and ball with a soft clatter. Cas chuckled, nipping at his lip. 

“You are going to get us caught.” He murmured. 

Dean didn’t have time to reply because Cas’ lips were back on his, his tongue begging entrance. Dean melted into the kiss, his own tongue licking into Cas’ mouth, pulling a moan out of the other man’s throat. 

“Now who’s going to get us caught?”

In reply, Cas slotted his thigh between Dean’s and pressed forward, his cock a hard line in his jeans fitting against Dean’s hip. Dean groaned again, his hands grabbing at Cas’ waist, pulling him closer. Cas pushed forwards once again, rolling his hips against Dean’s. Dean’s whole body jerked at the friction, the zing of arousal coursing through him. His cock was painfully hard against his zipper. 

Then Cas was stepping back, his eyes still locked on Dean. Dean made a noise that could only be called a whine. Cas’ t-shirt was rucked up on one side, a sliver of hip exposed. His lips were spit slick and shiny and his cheeks had a rosy flush to them. He looked gorgeous. 

“Come on Dean, we still have two courses left.” He said. His voice was husky. 

Dean groaned again. He righted himself, adjusting his jeans and pulling his shirt down. If anyone looked at the two of them closely, it would be obvious that this wasn’t an ordinary game of mini golf. 

The next course was a deceptively simple looking loop-di-loop. Dean lined up his shot, discreetly using the stance Cas had showed him earlier, and swung. The ball made it through and bounced onto the green. Dean let out a whoop and pulled Cas in for another, albeit less handsy, kiss. Cas laughed and pushed him away. 

“You’ve still got to putt.” 

Dean sauntered over to the neon green ball and carefully knocked it into the hole. It hit the lip and bounced out landing mere inches from its intended destination. Dean scowled at it and then at Cas. 

“You totally jinxed that.” He grumbled as he lined up his shot again. 

The final course was guarded by a Tyrannosaurus Rex, complete with stomping foot and swishing tail. Dean eyed it carefully, trying to work out the timing in his head. When he finally decided he would never figure it out he took a deep breath and swung. He made it through and he was fairly certain there was some divine intervention involved. 

Cas lined up his shot. On the fourth try Cas was mumbling something about the dinosaur being an “assbutt” and giving it a glare that should have caused it to explode. When his ball finally went in, Dean wrapped him in a hug. 

“Way to go, Cas.” 

“That was horrendous and you know it.” He said, sending an incredulous look Dean’s way. 

“It wasn’t perfect but you got the job done. That’s what counts.” 

Cas nodded, relaxing into the embrace. His hands clung snugly to Dean’s lower back. 

“So who won?” Dean said, even though he could already guess. No matter how badly Cas had done at the last course, he’d been right on target the rest of the evening. 

“I believe I did.” Cas said. 

“And uh, what did you win?” Dean’s mind raced with possibilities. The evening had been wonderful and if all Cas wanted was a goodnight kiss, Dean was up for that but he really _really_ hoped for more. 

“Come home with me.” 

******

Cas’ condo was exactly how he remembered it, down to the throw blanket tossed across the back of the couch. Cas shoved him through the door playfully, locking it behind them before kissing Dean again. In a moment of supreme unprofessionalism, they had made out the whole way up in the elevator. He just hoped Cole hadn’t been watching the monitor too closely. 

Cas pulled away smiling and started down the hallway. Dean scrambled to follow. Cas pulled his shirt off, dropping it on the floor and looking back at Dean over his shoulder. Dean followed suit, toeing his shoes off at the same time. 

Cas disappeared into a door at the far end of the hall, his own shoes and socks discarded along the way. Dean was undoing his belt as he stepped into the room, his fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans. When he glanced up again, Cas was naked on the bed, a lamp on the side table casting a warm glow over him. His mouth went dry immediately, his eyes roaming the tan form spread out before him. Cas had one hand on his cock, stroking lazily, the other rested on his stomach, his fingers tracing patterns across his skin. Dean could see a tattoo on his ribs that looked like some form of writing but he couldn’t make it out. 

He dropped his jeans with a thunk as his belt knocked the hardwood and was silently grateful he’d chosen to forgo boxers for the evening. Cas’ eyes raked up and down his body and a smile crossed his face again. 

“I know what I want my prize to be, if you’re agreeable.” Cas said, his voice deeper with arousal. Dean felt his cock twitch at the sound. That voice was a weapon. 

He climbed onto the bed, sliding his body up the other man’s and boxing him in with his arms. “What’s that?”

“I want you to suck me off,” his hands caressed Dean’s sides, one cupped his ass and squeezed, “and then I want to fuck you.” 

Dean shivered and nodded. “Yeah, Cas. I -” he let out a dry laugh, “I’m agreeable.”

He dipped down, slotting his mouth against the other man’s. They’d only been kissing for a few hours but it already felt like they’d been doing it forever. They were quickly learning each other’s quirks, likes and dislikes. He nipped at Cas’ bottom lip, then his chin. Cas squirmed under him, laughing softly. 

He made his way down Cas’ body, dropping kisses as he went. He stopped to suck a mark into the crease of his hip. Cas groaned, his fingers twisting in the sheets. He bit playfully at the lean muscles of his inner thighs and smiled when Cas spoke. 

“Tease.” 

Cas’ cock was beautiful; long and decently thick, with a slight curve to it. Dean glanced up at him, “So, uh-” He started but Cas stopped him with a smirk and tossed a condom at him. “Read my mind.” He said. 

He rolled the latex down, giving it a stroke before running his tongue up the underside. He bobbed his head a few times without finesse, just trying to get it wet, before stopping to suckle at the head, sliding his tongue along the sensitive edge. Cas’ hips jerked, a low moan coming from his throat. He tangled his fingers in Dean’s hair. Dean continued, taking Cas’ cock as far in as he could and using his hand to make up the difference. Cas was hot and heavy on his tongue. 

Dean groaned as he managed to take Cas’ cock just a bit deeper. He wished he could feel the velvety soft skin, could taste the precome that was surely leaking out. Next time, he thought. He twisted his wrist as he bobbed his head again, this time applying more pressure and suction, swirling his tongue at the top of each stroke. Cas’ body writhed, his hips bucking up again. 

His fingers tightened on Dean’s scalp and he cried out, “Deeeean.”

Dean hummed happily as he dipped his head down. He dropped one hand to cup Cas’ balls in his palm. Cas sucked in a breath, his fingers tightening and then he was grabbing, pulling at Dean’s shoulders. 

Dean let Cas’ cock slide free from his lips as he was manhandled up the bed. Cas slammed their mouths together, his tongue tangling with Dean’s, tracing the curve of his mouth, sliding against his teeth. He panted between kisses, “You are too good at that. Gonna make me come.”

Dean grinned against Cas’ mouth. “Wouldn’t want that.” He said. “How do you wanna do this?” 

Cas groaned again, his eyes falling shut for a moment. When they opened, they were dark dark blue and Dean felt a little jolt when they met his. 

“Want you on your back.” Cas said and Dean scrambled to comply. 

Cas kissed him again, the length of his body pinning Dean’s to the mattress. Dean heard, rather than saw, the bottle of lube open and then there were slick fingers circling his rim, pressing against him. He let his legs fall open and willed himself to relax. One finger slipped in easily and a second soon followed. They moved carefully but deliberately, pressing and stretching. Cas’ mouth dropped to his neck, his collar bones, and finally to his nipples. He bit his bottom lip to stifle a whine as Cas sucked one into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

His fingers pumped in and out, crooking now and then; searching. When his fingertips brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves, Dean’s whole body jerked. A loud moan tore from his throat and he would almost be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. 

Soon, Cas’ fingers pulled out and Dean wrapped his legs more securely around the other man’s waist. Cas’ eyes stayed locked on his as he lined up his cock, the thick head pressing resolutely against him. The stretch was enough to burn but not to hurt and Dean sighed as Cas pushed forward, his back arching off the bed. Cas felt big inside of him, thick, and Dean rolled his hips to try to get more. Cas bottomed out, pausing only for a moment before pulling out and pressing back in. 

His hands gripped Dean’s waist, fingertips digging into his skin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean hoped Cas would leave marks. 

He set a steady rhythm that drove Dean crazy. It was just this side of perfect, enough to keep him on edge. The slide of Cas inside of him, the heat and fullness was overwhelming. It was Dean’s turn to writhe, one hand curled around Cas’ shoulder, the other played across his ribs. 

He was panting now, heavy exhalations that he couldn’t control. His body zinged with arousal. Cas’ eyes were still on him, drinking up every sound and expression. He snapped his hips faster and Dean’s head fell back as he keened. He felt warmth pooling low in his belly, the tale tell tightening and he reached one hand down between their bodies, wrapping it around his cock. 

Having his mouth around Cas earlier and now the friction of their bodies had him dripping, the slick sound of his hand sliding over his cock only made it more evident. Cas groaned again, his mouth open and panting hard as his laser sharp gaze dropped to Dean’s hand. Cas thrust harder now, matching Dean’s movements. 

“Cas, baby. So good, so fucking good,” he said, barely managing to get the words out. “I’m close.” 

Cas fell forward, one hand cupping the back of Dean’s neck, his hips still pumping. “Come for me, Dean.” He whispered into the shell of his ear. He kissed him again, hot and insistent and Dean couldn’t hold back. He came, his body arching upwards, clenching around where Cas was still inside of him. Come coated his fist and both of their stomachs. 

Cas moaned again. His thrusts were ragged now, less controlled. Dean sank into the bed. His warm, pliant body was steadily crawling towards overstimulation but for now he felt fucking fantastic. Cas’ hips stuttered and then he pressed in deep. Dean knew he couldn’t really feel it, not with the condom, but he imagined the warmth of his release inside. 

Cas collapsed on top of him, panting, his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Dean ran soothing hands down his back, across his shoulder blades. 

Once he caught his breath, Cas got up and returned with a warm washcloth. He wiped them both down, taking special care with Dean, making him twitch. He smirked when Dean growled at him. 

After clicking off the lamp and pulling the sheets back up, he lay down again. He curled up against Dean’s side, one leg tucked across Dean’s, his head on his chest. Dean ran his fingers through Cas’ hair. It was soft and smelled faintly of coconut and Dean never wanted to stop messing with it. He closed his eyes, feeling tired and content. 

“By the way, you handle losing very well.” Cas’ voice was sleepy when he spoke. 

Dean couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face or the laugh that bubbled up.

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr at [DestielTrashland](http://destieltrashland.tumblr.com).
> 
> Title is from [Wona- Mumford & Sons, Baaba Maal, The Very Best, Beatenberg](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rAGWA-4U3QY) because it was in my head.


End file.
